


The Problem With Trojan Horses

by Crazy_Dumpling



Category: Super Junior
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, KyuSung Day, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 00:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy_Dumpling/pseuds/Crazy_Dumpling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Kyuhyun doesn’t know when to back off, and Heechul is Jongwoon’s over-protective manager. Why isn’t the path of True Love less complicated?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Problem With Trojan Horses

**Author's Note:**

> Written initially for [Kyusung Central's](http://www.asianfanfics.com/profile/view_author_stories/324562/L) Fluff Party prompt by y3sung, this fic mutated and grew out of my control and was posted instead on Kyusung Day. The prompt was:
> 
> _I want an AU fic - Cho Kyuhyun is a rich and successful man who usually gets what he wants. But what if what he wants is Famous Model Kim Jong Woon who happens to hate everything that he stands for? How does Kyu woo Jongwoon? Oh it doesn;t help that Jongwoon's manager is Heechul *lol*_

He meets Kyuhyun on an evening when he’s feeling at his most vulnerable. Jongwoon doesn’t realise it when he sees the lanky young man walking up to it, but it’s the first time since becoming a model that anyone ever shows such straightforward interest in him.

Perhaps it is what contributes to his eventual downfall.

Jongwoon is at a party with rich people because his best friend and his best friend’s boyfriend have decided to announce that they’re moving in together. Given that Siwon is the hottest model on the Seoul fashion scene, and that his boyfriend is the most popular designer in the city right now, Jongwoon should have been expecting the large crowd squeezing into Siwon’s small bachelor pad on the top floor of an exclusive apartment complex in Apgujeong.

“Typical,” Jongwoon’s manager sniffs beside him. Kim Heechul looks bored, as always, and he flicks an invisible spot of lint off his shirtsleeve. He’s dressed in a shirt printed with violent patches of magenta and teal, and sporting the tightest red jeans Jongwoon’s ever seen. He’ll be lucky if they don’t cut off the blood flow to anywhere important. “Trust Zhou Mi to try and fit a crowd of fifty in this shoebox. Just because it works in his shows doesn’t mean it’ll work in here. I don’t know why we came, you know. I bet they’ve run out of good booze already and there won’t be any decent food on offer because Siwon’s watching his waistline.”

He flounces off to the kitchen while Jongwoon looks for Siwon. He’s already waved hello to Zhou Mi, but the designer had been caught in a serious discussion with a group of Chinese buyers. After pushing through several groups of photographers, other designers and more models, he finds his quarry in the master bedroom. Siwon is chatting animatedly with a young girl with close-cropped hair and a pair of elfin eyes whom Jongwoon recognises as a reporter from a lifestyle website. Effortlessly chic as usual, Siwon manages to look good in a simple linen shirt and dark trousers that show off the contours of his body.

“Woonie-hyung!” Siwon beckons Jongwoon over with a megawatt smile. “We were beginning to think you wouldn’t make it!”

“Sorry.” Jongwoon grimaces, “My shoot ended late because the photographer wasn’t happy with the way the light was falling and we ended up readjusting the lights in between shots. The guy’s supposed to be a genius, but he’s a real pain in the ass. And Heechul said I was supposed to get you a gift to celebrate.”

He hands over the gift-wrapped CD he’s been carrying. A chill-out mix of house tunes, it was the first thing he’d seen in a music store just outside the building where his photoshoot had been. Jongwoon knows Siwon doesn’t really listen to that much house, but Zhou Mi seems the type to appreciate it. Siwon takes the CD with his usual gracious manner.

“Thanks, man. Oh, you don’t have a drink yet. Let me go get you one. Have you seen the view? It’s incredible. Sometimes I tell Mimi we can see China from here, he always says I’m crazy…”

Siwon’s chatter fades as he darts out of the room. Jongwoon hears him greet another partygoer and takes the chance to sit down on the massive king-sized bed that dominates the space.

The view is pretty spectacular. Jongwoon doesn’t think China is visible, but he can see a sea of twinkling lights spread out below him and skyscrapers reaching up to the sky like sparkling fingertips. The bedroom boasts floor to ceiling windows on its east side to take advantage of the morning sun and Jongwoon stares for several moments at the darkening sky outside in silence, content to meditate in rare solitude.

As a popular model favoured by the major labels in Seoul, Kim Jongwoon barely has a moment to himself most days. He’s usually surrounded by people, being dressed and made up to look as perfect as possible for the cameras, or prepped for a runway show by fussy makeup artists and designers who poke and prod at his body in an effort to figure out how to make their clothes look best.

Even when he’s not working, he’s exercising, often with a personal trainer who barks commands at him to stay focused. And on top of all of that, he’s also stuck with the world’s mouthiest manager in Heechul, who sees his job as seventy-five percent wet-nurse, twenty percent ruthless negotiator and five percent friend. This means Jongwoon is constantly being told what Heechul thinks about everything and anything, whether he wants to hear it or not.

Silence, to Jongwoon, is a precious commodity. Being alone is even rarer. He savours the moment as though it was some sort of fine wine, aged to perfection.

“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

Jongwoon jumps up from the bed guiltily. He didn’t even hear anyone walk in.

“Who are you?” He asks hostilely, in an effort to cover up his own discomfort. “And what are you doing in here?”

“Cho Kyuhyun,” the stranger answers easily. “I’m here because I was invited. I assume you were too, since you dress way too nicely to be some kind of gatecrasher.”

Great, just what Jongwoon needs. A smartass. Unlike most of the other partygoers, Cho Kyuhyun is dressed rather sombrely in a suit of dark grey and a white business shirt. He must be somebody’s partner or friend, just arrived from the office because a meeting with clients from Europe or some suitably distant place finally finished. Jongwoon doesn’t like the way he looks, nor the way Kyuhyun seems to be eyeing him up as though he is some sort of valuable commodity he is pricing to sell. Those dark eyes are a little too prying, and despite being more than tolerably good looking, Jongwoon is wary of Kyuhyun’s swaggering attitude.

“Siwon-ssi has gone to get me a drink. I was just waiting here until he gets back.” Jongwoon doesn’t know why he’s explaining his presence here. He’s known Zhou Mi for the past five years, Siwon ever since they started walking the runways together, which was so long ago Jongwoon can barely remember. He doesn’t have to explain himself to this kid.

“Really?” Annoyingly, Kyuhyun doesn’t seem to get the message that Jongwoon would prefer to be alone. “I’ve never heard him mention you before. We grew up together, you see. Our families used to be quite close. You must be one of Siwon’s fashion friends, although you seem a bit short to be a model.”

Jongwoon bristles. “We all can’t be handsome, rich, _and_ tall, Kyuhyun-ssi. What I do is none of your business.”

“Well, you see, that’s where you’re wrong,” Kyuhyun starts. He’s about to elaborate on this when Siwon sweeps back into the room, holding out a glass of champagne for Jongwoon.

“There you go, Woonie-hyung. We managed to get a case of Krug for a bargain from one of Mimi’s Chinese suppliers, although I’m not sure if I want to know how he wrangled it.” Siwon pauses, sees Kyuhyun. “Oh, Kyu! I thought you said you weren’t going to come tonight!!”

He pulls Kyuhyun into a bear-hug, nearly upsetting Kyuhyun’s own glass of red wine. Then he steps back and glances at Jongwoon. “Have you two introduced yourselves yet?”

Kyuhyun shrugs. “I told your friend here you’ve never mentioned him to me before, so maybe you should do the honours.”

Despite his rudeness, Siwon smiles widely. Clearly he’s still too ecstatic about actually moving in with Zhou Mi to mind what his guests’ manners. 

“Sure, sorry I forgot! Woonie, the annoying know-it-all you see here is Cho Kyuhyun. He’s basically second-in-command in the Cho chaebol, maybe you’ve heard of it? My dad was grooming me for the same role at our company too, except the talent scouts got me before he could say anything. Kyu, this gorgeous bastard is my oldest friend in the business, Kim Jongwoon. We met at my first runway show. When the heel of one of my shoes broke, Jongwoon-hyung helped me fix it back together with superglue. We’ve been friends since then. I’m surprised you haven’t recognised him, Kyu! There’s a huge billboard near your office with his face on it.”

Jongwoon smiles and tries not to grimace. That billboard Siwon is talking about is one of his underwear campaigns. He’s happy with the way the shots for that turned out, but not really enthusiastic about having his half-naked body being goggled at by this slippery rich man’s son he sees in front of him. There’s something unsavoury about Kyuhyun that he can’t place. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s just found out Kyuhyun is being groomed to take over the Cho chaebol, one of the fastest growing conglomerates in the city.

What they want, they always get. Jongwoon has never liked that attitude and Cho Kyuhyun’s good looks and ample wallet aren’t going to change his mind. If anything, he finds himself becoming even more wary of Kyuhyun.

“So, introductions done,” Siwon claps both of them on the back, still grinning like a maniac. People in love are so annoying that way. Jongwoon makes a note that whenever he lets himself fall for anyone again, it definitely won’t be as cheesy as Siwon is acting now. “Look, I have a ton of people to meet and greet. Why don’t you guys get to know each other? Kyu’s been telling me for the past few months about how he’d like to familiarise himself with the fashion industry. I think his sister is looking at acquiring several high-end labels, so why don’t you share a bit of your wisdom, Woonie? I’ll see you later. Remember to get something to eat from the kitchen. Mimi’s flown in some Peking duck from one of the best restaurants in Beijing, it’s out of this world.”

Siwon leaves on a scented cloud of Bulgari Man, his expression beatific. Jongwoon turns back to Kyuhyun, not bothering to hide his disbelief.

“Seriously? Your sister wants to buy up fashion houses?”

“Not anything _that_ expensive.” Kyuhyun looks pompously self-assured. He takes a sip of his dark red wine and favours Jongwoon with a confident smile, the sort that he probably wears when he’s about to take over a company for less than its market value. “Our father thinks Ahra should have a taste of running her own business, and she’s always been interested in fashion, so why not give her the chance to manage a stable of good quality Korean labels?”

“And you think they’ll just sell themselves over to you,” Jongwoon considers Kyuhyun again, notes the fine tailoring of his suit and the muted elegance of his watch, which he knows is worth double what he makes in a month. Kyuhyun’s shoes have scuffs on the shiny leather, but they look bespoke, and his hair has been carefully cut and styled. Money practically oozes out of his pores. “Never mind, I see you’re used to getting what you want.”

“Not all the time, but yes, I do usually get what I want when I put my mind to something.” This time, Kyuhyun doesn’t even bother to disguise his interest, his gaze sweeping up and down Jongwoon’s body. Jongwoon’s wearing a faded t-shirt under an Armani blazer and designer jeans with overpriced rips in the knees. His hair is messy from the stylist’s attentions and he’s still wearing dark eyeshadow to fit in with the goth look the photographer had wanted for the shoot. He feels tired and old after a long day of posing for the camera, and too cynical about Kyuhyun’s ulterior motives to feel flattered by the attention.

“Well, good luck with it.” Jongwoon turns to go. He doesn’t like the way Kyuhyun keeps edging closer to him, how it’s backing him up against the window pane. “I’m sure there will plenty of designers hungry for the cash.”

“Yes there are, and yes they will see the point of joining our group when they see the plans we have for expansion.” Kyuhyun purses his lips. “But I want to talk about you.”

“What?” Jongwoon frowns. “Why? We’ve only just met.”

“But you’re Siwon’s oldest friend in the fashion world.” Kyuhyun is so, so self-assured as to be almost intimidating. Jongwoon tells himself he’s immune to whatever spell Kyuhyun is trying to put on him. “I’m sure you’ve got a lot of experience working with big names in the industry, especially if you’re still getting cast for big billboard campaigns. Why don’t we get together some time for dinner, see if we can’t help each other out?”

Jongwoon stops himself from blurting out just where he thinks Kyuhyun can take his half-assed attempt at asking him out. But he forces a smile to his face, sips at his glass of champagne to calm himself down. Siwon won’t appreciate him starting fights at his party.

“Look, Cho Kyuhyun. You must a very influential guy, and you probably don’t get to hear this a lot, but no thanks. I’m sure you’ll find some guy a lot more qualified than me to help you out with your endeavour. Best of luck with that. I’m just too busy these days. There’s Fashion Week coming up, as you’re aware, and I’ve been booked to walk quite a few shows. I’ll be in and out of fittings and it’s going to be hard to plan anything definite. My social life is pretty much shot to pieces anyway.”

Kyuhyun doesn’t look convinced, but Jongwoon comforts himself with the knowledge that everything he’s said is true. Well, mostly true. He’s only walking for three major labels this year, and one is a haute couture show, where the designer is known for sending his models down the runway with as little clothing on as possible. The fitting for that show will probably only last all of two hours.

Unfortunately, the man opposite him doesn’t look as though he’s used to dealing with rejection.

“I don’t think you understand,” Kyuhyun leans closer. He smells slightly of musk and mint, a strangely compelling combination. “I’m asking you nicely, Kim Jongwoon, to have dinner with me. I’ve seen that billboard Siwon-ssi was talking about, and I think it shows your body off very nicely, but if we’re being honest, the label itself is a little outdated, don’t you think? I’ve been doing a lot of background research for my sister’s project, and I think I’ve worked out what the public likes. They might buy the underwear you’re trying to sell, but for how much longer?”

“So you think I should go out with you because you think you have career advice to give me??” Jongwoon doesn’t even bother trying to be polite any longer. His voice raises as he takes a step forward, gesturing with his glass. “Isn’t that a little presumptuous of you?”

Kyuhyun laughs, as if he expected all of this. Jongwoon wishes he could slap that smirk off his face.

“Actually, no. The point of my invitation isn’t to tell you what I think you should be doing with your talents. I’ve seen your editorials, Kim Jongwoon-ssi, and I’ve heard about you from my friends. I only wanted to ask you out, but if you want me to make it more professional, I suppose I could offer you some insights.”

At this point, Jongwoon is ready to start swinging. But he has to know, “What about your sister’s project?”

“Oh,” Kyuhyun waves a hand like it’s nothing important. “That’s already sorted itself out. She’s already in negotiations to buy a majority stake in Jung Fashions, and they own one of the labels you’re walking for: Vintage Carousel. So, really, this is more of a personal invite.”

That makes Jongwoon’s mind up for him. “You know what? Screw you, Cho Kyuhyun. What the fuck do you take me for? Some kind of idiot who’ll swoon all over you just because you’re so loaded you want to take over the entire stretch of Apgujeong? No, I think you’re going to have to deal with rejection at least once in your life. Rich bastards like yourself have enough money to cope with the fact that you don’t always get what you want.”

He stalks out of the room, fuming.

“But you’ll think about it, won’t you?” Kyuhyun calls after him.

Jongwoon tells himself it would be undignified to tell Kyuhyun to get fucked. He’d probably assume Jongwoon was actually responding to his pick-up attempt. And there’s no way in hell Jongwoon is going to let him get away with _that_.

***

Somehow, Jongwoon knows that their little confrontation in Siwon and Zhou Mi’s bedroom won’t be the last time he sees Kyuhyun. This is confirmed two days after the party, when he’s trying (with difficulty) to convince himself not to be self-conscious about strutting down the runway in what looks like a soiled bedsheet. The preparations for Fashion Week are underway, and already Jongwoon can feel a headache threatening as he stands in a sterile-looking office in Gangnam being fitted for one of his three shows.

“It’s a _toga_ ,” the designer whines. Ahng Mi Rae is an up and coming menswear couturier, who apparently has been doing well enough with bespoke commission that she’s decided to try her hand at producing haute couture. Jongwoon wouldn’t care about what her particular motivations might be, but it does make a difference when he has to walk around with only a sheet to protect his dignity.

Perhaps if he was ten years younger, he’d do it without a further thought. But he’s getting on in years and, for the first time in his long career, Jongwoon actually feels nervous about what people will say when he puts on this garment that makes it look as though he’s thrown up all over himself. He’d rather be at Zhou Mi’s office swapping gossip about which models are sleeping with which seedy filthy rich businessmen, but Siwon has obviously taken precedence in that show.

“Is it a frat party toga?” He asks, wrinkling his nose. The stain doesn’t look better the longer he stares at it. In fact, it seems to be growing.

Mi Rae pins a fold back and steps back to look at her work. “No, it’s a ink splatter pattern. You’re supposed to be emulating the mystique of the great thinkers of Antiquity. People are going to look at you and be reminded of Pythagoras and Sophocles!”

“I don’t think Pythagoras would approve of this getup,” Jongwoon mutters, but Mi Rae ignores him, concentrating on pinning up the garment so that it shows off his legs before making him practice walking around in it.

The things he has to do to get paid. Jongwoon sighs and glances in Heechul’s direction, silently pleading. His manager is, as usual, on the phone to one of his many contacts, trying to buy himself a copy of the latest issue of W magazine, since one of the actresses he’s been chasing has a full ten page editorial in it. Heechul rolls his eyes and gestures for Jongwoon to get on with it. 

There’s a line on the dark carpet marked out in yellow duct tape and Jongwoon strides down it, moderating his walk so that he’s not being overly aggressive, or too shy and retreating. He tries to look dignified, throws his head back and thinks of what a Greek philosopher would say if he saw Jongwoon in this glorified pillow case. Probably ruminate on the dissolution of modern society and the glorification of the everyday necessity as an item of soiled virtue. He feels like a laughing stock.

And then to cap it all off, Cho Kyuhyun walks into the office. At first, he doesn’t see Jongwoon, being deep in conversation with a lackey of Mi Rae’s. Then he turns away and sees Jongwoon standing in front of him with his hands on his hips, dressed in a ridiculous faux-toga with an impressive-looking stain down the front.

“Oh,” he says, all studied casualness, his eyes widening as they take in the short length of the toga and the nakedness of Jongwoon’s legs. “They didn’t tell me you were coming in today, Jongwoon-ssi. It’s nice to see you again.”

Jongwoon narrows his eyes. “I’ve been booked for a fitting here ever since I agreed to walk for Mi Rae a month ago. What are you doing here?”

Kyuhyun takes a while to drag his gaze up from Jongwoon’s legs, his mouth slightly open. Jongwoon tells himself that he’s not intrigued by the way Kyuhyun keeps staring at him like he wants to gobble Jongwoon up, because there is no way he’d let someone like Kyuhyun know that being eyed up so blatantly actually sends a shiver of anticipation through his body. Despite being constantly looked at for a living, there’s always something more enthralling about capturing a single person’s undivided attention in a more intimate setting.

Not that he’s trying to do anything of the sort. Not with Cho Kyuhyun.

“I’m here for some preliminary talks with Mi Rae,” Kyuhyun waves a leather-bound folder in Jongwoon’s face. It’s calf-skin, embossed with his initials, entirely what a rich man’s son like him would be expected to carry. “If Mi Rae is agreeable, we’d like to go into partnership with her and help her develop her business, maybe expand into the China market. She’s got a good eye for upcoming trends, and she knows how to knock a decent collection together. We’ve got the connections and experience. It’s a win-win situation if she comes on board.”

“And your sister picked this label?” Jongwoon fiddles with the fraying hem of the toga, aware of Kyuhyun’s eyes on him. He decides to ignore it, since men like Kyuhyun seem to live on the attention of others.

“I did, actually.” Kyuhyun allows himself a small smile. It isn’t as smug as Jongwoon thought it would be. “I like her designs; she takes risks and pulls them off most of the time. Plus, the cutting of her pieces is always top-notch. You don’t really get that in a lot of labels today. Everybody’s always looking to shock instead of concentrating on saleability.”

He’s obviously been studying the market in preparation for the chaebol’s next acquisitions. Jongwoon tilts his head, considers Kyuhyun a little more closely. He’s dressed in another sombre dark brown woollen suit, with a muted tie and a gold tie clip in the shape of a dragon, set with a emerald. Stylish, Jongwoon thinks, but too safe. He’d have thought the Chos would know how to dress their golden boy up a little more flamboyantly, since he’s helping to negotiate with several major fashion labels. Or perhaps Cho Kyuhyun really does mean to leave this to his sister and miss out on the action.

“So, you’ll be asking her for a majority stakeholding then?” Jongwoon shakes his head. “Trying to influence her creative direction and output when you’re aiming to open up her customer base too rapidly. Mi Rae’s only just started showing at Fashion Week. She doesn’t have the resources yet to even consider foreign markets. Don’t mess around in things you have no experience in, Cho Kyuhyun.”

Kyuhyun’s chin comes up, and his posture becomes defensive. “I enjoy challenges, Jongwoon-ssi, and I have some very trusted advisors who have worked in the industry for decades. And I think Mi Rae is more than capable of deciding herself whether she’s ready to open up or not.”

He favours Jongwoon with a haughty stare. “Plus, one thing about me, Jongwoon-ssi? I enjoy new challenges. You included.”

While Jongwoon is still finding the right words for a scathing comeback, Kyuhyun smirks, reaches out and fingers the edging on the front of Jongwoon’s toga, much to his horror.

“You sure you still don’t want to go out with me sometime?” Kyuhyun asks, his brown eyes amused. The scent of his cologne reaches Jongwoon; something soft and spicy, mingled with the warmth of Kyuhyun’s own body. Probably a custom blend, imported from France, maybe. For Jongwoon to notice all this means Kyuhyun’s standing much too close. He tells himself not to react. “I’m sure I could try and change your mind. I can be very persuasive.”

Jongwoon suddenly feels incredibly naked standing in nothing but a dirty length of cloth to protect his honour. And Kyuhyun’s words are not helping the situation, nor are his fingers, which are wonderfully long and tapered. Jongwoon doesn’t want to notice the way they play around the intricate knotwork holding the toga in place, doesn’t like to think about why he’s even imagining Kyuhyun undoing the knot. He summons righteous indignation by reminding himself that Cho Kyuhyun probably puts on the same act for any other suckers he tries to seduce.

“Stop.” Jongwoon hisses, his voice rising with his irritation. “What do you think you’re doing? I’ve already said I wasn’t interested in becoming your next little plaything, so take your hands off me! God, Cho Kyuhyun. Maybe it’s because you’ve not been refused so many times in your life, so I can be the one to tell you how it works: I’m not going anywhere with you, and you and your wallet can kiss my ass!”

He brushes Kyuhyun’s hand away, not caring that several staff members are staring at them now. Heechul hurries over, his face like thunder.

“Are you harassing my client? Don’t you realise who he is??” He squawks, peering at Kyuhyun with a scowl. “You — I know you! The Cho prodigy, aren’t you? You’re all over the social section in magazines, huh. What are you doing trying to get your paws on Jongwoon? Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer someone a bit younger? Stupider? Less likely to break your nose? I’m sure you have a lot more uses for your money than trying to persuade Jongwoon-ssi to give you a minute of his time.”

Jongwoon ignores the jibe about his age; Heechul is older than him, after all, but loves to rub in the fact that Jongwoon is one of the elder statesmen in the business now, even though he’s only starting to push thirty. He takes a deep breath and wrangles his temper under control. Turns to Kyuhyun, who looks more bemused than anything.

“Look, Kyuhyun-ssi. I don’t mean to be rude, but as I’ve told you before, I’m going to have to decline your offer of a meal. Like my manager says, I think you’ll find a lot of my younger colleagues more willing to show you a good time. Some of them won’t even be after all your cash. Me, I’m just old and tired of getting hit on by people who think they can own me just because they’re rich. I don’t play that way.”

Kyuhyun shrugs, apparently unconcerned, but there is iron in his smile and the set line of his shoulders sends a clear, quiet signal that he doesn’t expect to be put off so easily. Jongwoon wonders if perhaps that’s a sign for him to worry. Beside them, Heechul mutters something about the inadvisability of them starting a fight in such a public place.

“I don’t know where you’ve been getting your information about me, Jongwoon-ssi, but I’m not like those other playboys who waste your time. You want me to go? Fine, I’ll leave you alone for now, but you’re never too old to have some fun, and you shouldn’t be so sure of what you will or won’t do in the future. I’ll see you at your next show. Best of luck.”

Kyuhyun gracefully side-steps Jongwoon and Heechul, walks back to where Mi Rae is standing with a mouthful of pins and greets her courteously. She’s happy to see him, gesturing at Jongwoon, obviously showing off her latest creation. Kyuhyun glances over and nods his head, smiling, but Jongwoon can’t tell if he is looking at the damned toga or Jongwoon himself.

He doesn’t know why a shiver makes its way down his spine.

***

To Jongwoon’s dismay, it turns out that Kyuhyun really is a man of his word. He’s sitting in the front row next to the editor of W magazine when he walks at his good friend Yunho’s preview show for his Autumn/Winter collection, a few days before the proper Fashion Week events kick off.

Heechul is properly apoplectic when he realises what’s happened. He berates Yunho’s PR team for several long minutes while Jongwoon is getting his makeup done before the show, then moves on to harassing a passing stylist because she’s taking too long getting Jongwoon’s first outfit ready.

“Yunho’s already said sorry, hyung,” Jongwoon remarks, when Heechul starts another long spiel about his friend’s incompetence. “But you know how these things are. He’s got to invite all the important players on the scene, even if I think Cho Kyuhyun is so far up his ass he’s at risk of suffocating. Just let me get this over with. I’m a professional, it’s not like I haven’t had to be nice to people I don’t like.”

“Fine, whatever.” Heechul waves a hand. “Don’t blame me when you fall for his fancy car and jet and start spreading your legs for him whenever he snaps his fingers.”

“Hyung!”

“What? Isn’t that what he expects you to do? That’s what you always told me. Not to let you date anyone who thinks his wallet size is equivalent to the size of his cock?”

Somewhere above him, the stylist doing Jongwoon’s hair stifles a giggle.

Jongwoon sighs. “Look, can we get through tonight without you scandalising the rest of polite society? Yunho didn’t know Kyuhyun would actually turn up tonight. According to what he told me, the Cho family usually don’t send anyone important for the show. He said it’s the first time Kyuhyun actually responded to the invitation at all, and he’s been sending them for the past three years.”

He rubs the bridge of his nose, earning a cluck of disapproval from his makeup lady, who hurriedly dusts more powder onto his face. Then, he’s propelled into the different pieces of oddly-cut fabric that make up his outfit. There’s no time to think of what circumstances prompted Cho Kyuhyun to change his mind, and perhaps that’s a good thing, because Jongwoon isn’t sure he’s liking the implications of Kyuhyun’s sudden appearance.

“You all right?” Yunho asks, as he’s checking Jongwoon over one final time before he takes the runway. “You look as though you’re about to puke, Woonie. I haven’t seen you this nervous for ages. What’s wrong?”

“Don’t worry,” Jongwoon plasters a smile on his face. “I’m great. I promise I won’t dirty your hard work. Go and worry about your rookie models, I’ll be fine.”

What he’s wearing is something between a kilt and a pair of trousers; tartan flared harem pants that sit low very low on Jongwoon’s hips, accompanied by a cropped black tight tank top that shows off his bare abdomen and a spiked collar. Jongwoon’s hair has been liberally sprayed with a vast quantity of hairspray and is pushed back, away from his eyes which are lined in red. 

Yunho makes a final adjustment to the safety pin that’s holding Jongwoon’s tank top together. “Great. Well, go out there and show them why you’re the toughest model to book in Seoul.”

So Jongwoon does.

Flashes go off the instant he steps onto the catwalk. Being one of the most recognisable names on the Seoul fashion scene tends to have that effect, but Jongwoon is known for the extra attitude he brings to each of his shows. He struts with the easy confidence of a veteran at ease and in control of the situation. Jongwoon loves the feeling of knowing that every single pair of eyes in the venue is watching him. He delights in the attention, makes the moment his own, striding unhurriedly down towards the front row of VIPs, his gaze haughty and assured as he takes in the crowd around him.

Just as he saunters down to the turn, Jongwoon catches a glimpse of Kyuhyun. He’s dressed in another immaculate suit, one leg crossed almost demurely over the other, about to whisper something in his companion — a glamourous woman with blonde streaks in her hair who looks so similar to Kyuhyun she must be the sister he always mentions — when he sees Jongwoon and freezes. Sits up very straight, as though he’s been caught cheating by his teacher.

That’s interesting, Jongwoon thinks, even as he slides the belt around his waist free. Yunho wants him to demonstrate how the look ties into the collection’s theme of rebel schoolboys, so Jongwoon wraps the belt around his wrist and up his bicep. His trousers slip down a fraction lower and Jongwoon is aware of how they sit rather precariously on his hip bones now. 

Kyuhyun’s eyes are boring into him. His back is ramrod straight and his lips are so compressed they are almost bloodless. Jongwoon lets himself wallow in the rush of power, delights in the fact that he’s provoked such a reaction from Kyuhyun, who’s always seemed so smug and self-assured. There’s the usual thrill of exhilaration that Jongwoon always feels at moments like these, but this time it’s mixed with a sense of satisfaction at having got one up against Kyuhyun.

_Take that, you snotty little creep._

Jongwoon snarls at the audience, feeling himself become the character Yunho has picked out for him tonight; the insolent leader of a pack of runaway boys who recognises no authority save his own impulse. He hears the gasp of appreciation flitter through the crowd and smirks, sneaks another look at Kyuhyun, who is watching him with an intensity that makes Jongwoon step backwards before he realises what he is doing, instead of turning around. Luckily, no one seems to notice what has happened, and Jongwoon thanks his lucky stars he didn’t fall face-down onto the runway before walking back the way he came.

He walks down two more times, in a jumpsuit made of khaki-coloured canvas, unbuttoned to reveal his chest, and in cut-off shorts with a cropped white top and graffiti smeared across his abdomen. Both times, Jongwoon can’t fail to notice that Kyuhyun watches him closely, one hand on his thigh, those long fingers cradling his chin as he takes Jongwoon in. When Jongwoon comes out with the rest of the models and Yunho to the crowd’s loud appreciation, he has the misfortune to land up right in front of Kyuhyun, who smiles up at him like he’s about to be devoured.

“Smile and wave,” Yunho tells Jongwoon, before he can say anything. “You did great tonight. Thanks for helping out.”

“Anytime,” Jongwoon pats Yunho on the back. He’s glad not to have to look at Kyuhyun, because there is something in Kyuhyun’s smile that gives him a strange, uncertain fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach, and Jongwoon isn’t sure he likes it.

A bouquet of flowers is waiting for him when Jongwoon finally gets backstage to the small room Yunho provided for him, after a longer than usual after-party, where he shook too many hands and was kissed by too many people he won’t remember in the morning. Normally he wouldn’t get such a luxury, but Yunho is an old friend and Jongwoon never says no to the chance of enjoying a little privacy. Heechul grumbles behind him while Jongwoon examines the basket — it’s a tasteful arrangement of tiger lillies and orchids, all white — and the card that came with them.

“Did you see this come in?” Jongwoon asks, flicking open the small card.

“No. I was outside talking to one of those cute fashion bloggers.” Heechul looks a little guilty. “But I swear I locked the door before I went away. And most of the show I was watching you, Woonie. You were _fantastic_ , by the way. Although we should talk about that hop-skip thing you did the first time you saw Young Master Cho.”

He shivers dramatically. Jongwoon ignores him, scrutinising the scrawl on the card.

_Jongwoon-ssi,_

_This gift is the first of five. By the time I’m done, you’ll stop running away, even if I have to fetch a leash to go with that collar of yours._

The signature is an untidy K.

“What a presumptuous turd he is!” Heechul explodes. 

Jongwoon doesn’t disagree.

“Watch out,” Heechul sounds disgusted. “The next thing you know, he’ll be offering you a car just to go out to a movie.”

***

The second gift Kyuhyun sends is not a car, as Jongwoon feared, but something more sedate. It’s a beautiful old Leica M6 camera that arrives on his doorstep one day before Fashion Week, not so rare as to be astronomically expensive, but a model from the 1980s that is still relatively hard to find. Jongwoon doesn’t know how Kyuhyun found out about his photography hobby (“He probably bribed Siwon with a gym membership at the new place the family’s just opened over in Songpa,” Heechul snarls), but he can’t help the gasp of appreciation that falls from his lips when he unboxes the camera and holds it up to the light.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmurs, entranced by the shine of the metal, how perfectly the camera fits in his hands. This is the last mechanical camera Leica made before electronic gizmos got in the way. He’s holding a piece of history. Kyuhyun would know how much it would mean to him to actually own an M6. Jongwoon has never really indulged his photography habit that much before, more concerned with setting up business ventures for his family and taking care of his parents. The camera represents his only real personal indulgence.

Kyuhyun would know all that, and would doubtless expect something in return. Jongwoon loves the camera, but he’s wise enough to know the implications of accepting the gift.

“Take it back,” he says glumly, packing it back away carefully. Heechul makes a noise of agreement, notes down the return address on the courier’s label. “And make sure to tell him thank you, but I have no use for such expensive things.”

“Damn right.” Heechul looks annoyed that Jongwoon is lingering too long over the camera box and snatches it away. “Don’t you worry, Woonie. I’ll go and give that bastard a piece of my mind about where he can stick that lens of his.”

Somehow, Kyuhyun manages to worm Jongwoon’s mobile number out of Zhou Mi or Siwon, because he texts Jongwoon later in the day. It’s during a break in rehearsals for the first of Jongwoon’s couture shows, and he’s wobbling about on a stacked boot heel when his phone rings.

“Get it,” the coordinator yells, “we need to take a break anyway.”

Jongwoon sighs, looks at his phone.

_I see you sent back the gift I picked out for you, Jongwoon-ssi. Didn’t you like it? Your manager seemed very insistent on letting me know how much you hated it, but I know he’s lying. I’ll have to try harder next time._

Annoyed, Jongwoon scowls at his phone’s display and types back a furious reply,

_Kyuhyun-ssi, don’t waste your time and your money. I don’t need anything from you._

Maybe that’s a bit too rude (why is he even worrying about whether he’s being rude to Cho Kyuhyun or not?), so Jongwoon sends another message,

_The camera is beautiful, I’m sorry you were told that I thought it wasn’t. But please don’t think I’m going to be impressed with such expensive gifts._

The reply comes a few minutes after, just as Jongwoon stands up to restart the rehearsal.

_I don’t think you get how this works, Jongwoon. I don’t give up that easily — I’m going to make you mine, whatever you think now._

Jongwoon trips over his boots, much to the coordinator’s loud distress.

***

The third gift is a bottle of shower gel left on the doorstep of Jongwoon’s apartment. A very expensive brand of shower gel that Kyuhyun flies in from a small spa in the Italian Alps, which smells like sunlight and warm amber and vanilla. The moment Jongwoon catches a whiff of the scent, he thinks of long lazy days on the beach with a book in one hand and a cold drink in the other.

It’s the sort of gift that would make Jongwoon weak in the knees, ordinarily, because it’s the sort of thing he would buy himself as a reward after a long day of shows and parties and after-parties. There’s even a small loofah that comes with the bottle, which Jongwoon can tell would feel heavenly against his tired body.

The note that comes with the gift, however, sets Heechul off.

“‘I hope you like this more than my last present, maybe one day you’ll let me help you wash all your makeup off’??? What an arrogant shit! Why don’t you let me call a couple of guys over to his place and tell him to stop trying to buy you off, Woonie?”

Jongwoon sighs. “He obviously saw the show I did for the House of Kim two nights ago. You know the one where I was shirtless and had body paint all over my chest? They put palm prints all over me, hyung. I’m amazed you managed to forget. Kyuhyun was in the front row for that one as well.”

In fact, Kyuhyun had been staring at him so fixedly Jongwoon almost tripped and fell flat in his face. It hadn’t been a moment he was particularly proud of. Something about Kyuhyun’s whole demeanour, as if he was interested in little else apart from Jongwoon, still confuses him. Why would the heir to a chaebol be interested in an ageing specimen like him? Most rich young men with cash to burn would be more interested in chasing easier targets.

Heechul shakes his head. “I’m trying to forget! Those bastards never provided enough bottles of Fiji mineral water for the members of your precious support team.”

“You are my only support team, hyung.”

“Yes,” Heechul says with exaggerated patience. “That’s my point. Anyway, do you want me to send a message to this Kyuhyun brat? Let me do this for you, Woonie. You obviously want to tell him to stop.”

Jongwoon is about to agree but something holds him back.

“Uh, leave it with me, hyung. I’m a big boy now, you know. I can handle my own battles.”

“Sure,” Heechul looks sceptical. “That’s what I’m not sure about, Jongwoon-ssi. You’re much too nice to people who aren’t worth your time.”

“I’m sure Cho Kyuhyun would disagree with you.” Jongwoon remarks wryly.

Heechul curses and says the last thing he’s worried about is Kyuhyun’s opinion on anything.

Jongwoon takes another sniff of the shower gel before returning it to its box, unopened. He doesn’t send it back to Kyuhyun, even though he says he wants to. Instead it sits on his perpetually cluttered sideboard while Jongwoon attends more and more shows and parties for Fashion Week.

***

“You know, Kyu’s actually a really nice guy,” Siwon tells Jongwoon, “You should try getting to know him first before telling him to piss off, hyung.” They’re lounging at Siwon’s apartment the night before Jongwoon’s final show for Vintage Carousel, the label that Kyuhyun’s sister is supposed to be acquiring for the chaebol’s luxury fashion arm.

Kyuhyun sent his fourth gift over this morning; a pricey vintage of Bordeaux that’s worth an eye watering sum of money. Not that Jongwoon would know, much less appreciate, since he’s never been able to knock back more than two beers without becoming red in the face and prone to blurting out secrets he’d much rather keep hidden. No, he leaves wine drinking to people like Kyuhyun and Siwon, who have the background and knowledge to properly taste and enjoy it.

_Since you seem to have liked my last gift so much, I’m sending you this bottle in the hope that you will share a glass or two with me one day. Perhaps after the Vintage Carousel show, when nobody else is around?_

Jongwoon had made the mistake of reading the card in front of Heechul. Before he had known what was going on, his manager had jumped on the phone and yelled at Kyuhyun for a good ten minutes about respecting boundaries and taking no for answer without pausing for breath.

“And that’s not everything I have to say!” He’d shouted, when Jongwoon had finally dragged him away from the phone. “You think your shit doesn’t stink, Cho, but keep pestering my boy and I swear I will kick your ass so hard you won’t be able to sit quite so demurely at your next board meeting!”

“Your manager seems angry,” Kyuhyun told him, when Jongwoon finally managed to wrestle the phone away and tried to apologise. “Maybe next time I’ll try not to send stuff to your apartment when he’s around. When is that?”

“Nice try.” Jongwoon growled. “But you’re not getting that information so easily, Kyuhyun-ssi. Why don’t you just give up, huh? I’ve already told you that I’m not buying what you’re trying to sell. You rich boy types always think you can get what you want by throwing money around. I don’t work that way.”

“Then what way _do_ you work, Jongwoon-ssi? I know you’re not the type to respond to, ah… more conventional means of persuasion, so I’m determined to find out what you do respond to.” Kyuhyun’s voice turned insufferably smug, “Just face it, you’ll be mine one way or another. I’m not like those other rich bastards. I’m Cho Kyuhyun. Whatever you think about me, I promise you you’re wrong.”

He’d rung off, before Jongwoon could get another word in.

“You wouldn’t believe it, but when we were younger, Kyu was the shyest kid in school,” Siwon smiles as he pours more sparkling water into Jongwoon’s glass. “I know it sounds crazy, but deep down he’s still just a sweet, dorky kid who wonders why the world doesn’t think the way he does and worries about why he doesn’t have as many friends as he should.”

“Sweet?” Jongwoon tries not to choke. “Sure, I’ll buy that the next time I see him staring at me like some kind of pervert.”

“We’re models, remember, hyung? That’s kind of what we’re paid to do; be stared at.”

Jongwoon scowls.

“Give him a chance,” Siwon continues. “He might surprise you one day, you know. I was the one who gave him your number, and I know he’s not some kind of crazy creeper, so don’t worry. He’s still a bit socially awkward, but I dunno. Kyu can really grow on you.”

Well, Jongwoon thinks, Siwon has always been a soft-hearted bastard. And there’s no way he’s letting Kyuhyun anywhere near him. Because Jongwoon has principles. One of the important of these is not being taken in by smarmy rich men’s sons like Cho Kyuhyun.

He leaves the wine bottle next to the shower gel.

***

Jongwoon almost doesn’t get Kyuhyun’s fifth and final gift. It’s the closing event of Fashion Week, and the Vintage Carousel show involves three changes of outfit for him, all of them more intricate than the last. There are platform shoes, fitted waistcoats, too-long pyjama pants and jeans that are so tight they look as though they might contravene public decency laws. An apparent homage to the 1980s, tonight Jongwoon is having his hair blown into a high quiff and heavy, smoky eyeliner smudged over glossy black shadow.

As usual, Kyuhyun is seated in the front row, between a prominent fashion blogger and the president of a record label. Heechul tells this to Jongwoon with a glum look on his face. He’s getting tired of having to double guess where Kyuhyun will turn up next and has taken to screening Jongwoon’s calls, which is a futile effort since Kyuhyun has an unlisted number and only calls Jongwoon late at night when he’s sure Heechul has gone home.

“Cheer up, hyung,” Jongwoon doesn’t even know why he’s trying to make his manager feel better about the situation when he’s the one who’s being stalked by a sociopath with too much money. “He’s not bought me a boat or anything yet.”

“That’s supposed to be reassuring?” Heechul snatches the bottle of mineral water in Jongwoon’s hand away. “What if his next gift to you is a private jet ride to some deserted island, huh? Don’t expect me to wipe your snot for you when it turns out he’s secretly got some kind of sick harem and he just wanted to get into your pants just because he thought you have a nice ass.”

Jongwoon chokes back a snigger when he sees that Heechul is actually being semi-serious. “Come on, hyung. Cho Kyuhyun’s insufferable, but he’s not that much of an asshole.” 

Heechul throws him a withering look that clearly shows how much of a sucker he thinks Jongwoon is. But already the stylists and stage managers are pushing him off to the racks of clothes to get changed.

Kyuhyun spots Jongwoon the instant he appears at the beginning of the catwalk and doesn’t stop staring at him the entire length of the show, even craning his neck to watch Jongwoon when he disappears around the twists and turns of the elaborate garden labyrinth that’s been carefully crafted for tonight’s show. He’s dressed more casually this time, in a light denim shirt and dark blue jeans that show off surprisingly luscious thighs. A pair of horn-rimmed glasses perches on his nose, which somehow contrive to make him appear softer, younger. Dangerously bordering on adorable and lost.

Jongwoon doesn’t let this latest revelation faze him (he warns himself that he’s already decided he’s not interested in Cho Kyuhyun, no matter how lost or how adorable he is). He’s got a show to walk, after all. His last change, a look that consists of schoolboy shorts, crisp collared shirt and elaborately ripped blazer with a suitably jaunty school tie around his neck is the subject of many reporters’ attentions. It might have something to do with the high leather boots he’s wearing, and the doberman he is being dragged down the catwalk by.

Kyuhyun meets his gaze when Jongwoon finally wrestles control of the dog. He licks his lips and Jongwoon doesn’t know why he suddenly stands up straighter, heedless of everyone else around them, until the dog pulls him back to his senses.

It comes as a surprise, then, when the first person to hit on him at the after party isn’t Kyuhyun, but a drunken buyer from a reputable department store. 

“Hey, it’s Kim Jongwoon!” The guy — Jongwoon’s forgotten his name already, that’s how insignificant he is — slings an arm around Jongwoon’s shoulders. “You know, I thought you worked that show like a real pro.” His breath smells foully of cheap wine and Jongwoon tries not to wrinkle his nose too obviously as he pulls away.

“Thanks,” he mutters, as he turns to go, about to yell out for Heechul when he realises Heechul has taken the rest of the night off after congratulating Jongwoon for finishing Fashion Week in one piece. Something about seeing whether his actress girlfriend wanted help to prepare for her next audition. Cursing his absent manager, Jongwoon can’t help but wince when he’s pulled back by the buyer.

“No, really. I thought you were un-fucking-believable. So, here’s what I’m thinking. I need a new face for the cover of our next campaign, and I reckon you’re the perfect candidate to raise our store’s profile amongst our key 18 to 34 demographic. We’re talking huge sums of money on offer if you’re willing to come talk to me about it over dinner. Or maybe you’d like to meet me back at my hotel room for a confidential meeting?”

“Seriously?” Jongwoon raises an eyebrow, “Did you think that was actually going to convince me to come back with you? How fucking dumb do you think I am?”

The buyer leers at Jongwoon. He’s only about five years older than Jongwoon at most, but he’s got the sunken eyes and sagging jowls that signal an unhealthy affection for alcohol. “Hey, I haven’t even got to the part where we give you a new car for sucking my dick. You’re yesterday’s news, pal. The new kids on the scene got twice as many outfits as you did tonight. You think you’re going to stay around forever? Wake up. Why don’t you take up my offer while you’re still able and save yourself the embarrassment when you suddenly don’t book any new jobs? You’re a model, aren’t you? Why don’t you do as you’re told and go where the money is? Stop trying to use your brain, boy.”

Jongwoon tells himself the man’s words don’t hurt him, that he’s heard them a million times from spurned suitors and would-be lovers. But there’s something about the buyer’s insinuation that he’s becoming irrelevant that fans the flames of his rage. If Heechul were here, perhaps he would be able to stop what happens next, but he’s not, and Jongwoon reaches back with his hand, balling it up into a fist, ready to strike — 

Only he doesn’t. Because Kyuhyun has a hold on his arm and pushes it down.

“You should probably learn how to be polite to people you’re trying to screw over,” he tells the buyer, cold anger radiating off his body, his shoulders visibly tense. “And you need to apologise to Jongwoon-ssi. He doesn’t need fuckups like you trying to get into his pants with empty promises.”

“Oh, _excuse me_ ,” the buyer goggles at Kyuhyun. Snorts. “Are you speaking from experience? Or are you trying to tell me that you’ve already tapped that frigid ass? I should’ve guessed I wasn’t ever going to be able to compete with Cho Kyuhyun’s mountains of money. Guess our boy Jongwoon here is smarter than the average clothes-horse. He only goes for the dicks with the right-sized wallet.”

It would be so, so easy, Jongwoon thinks, to break the asshole’s jaw right now. A glance in Kyuhyun’s direction reveals that the other man must clearly have the same idea.

“Actually, Jongwoon-ssi hasn’t responded to any of my invitations,” Kyuhyun says, his voice amazingly controlled. “But I respect that it is his choice to make, and I expect you to do the same, since it’s his life and you and I don’t have a say in it. Now, since it’s also my fucking party, I’m going to ask you to leave politely. You can get out with your dignity intact, or you can be thrown out on your ass, with everybody watching. Your call.”

“Maybe you’re not fucking yet,” the buyer says, as he stands and buttons his coat which is too long and too big for his body, “but I see that both you assholes think you’re too good for the likes of common people like me. You two suit each other way too well. A pair of perfectly matched morons.”

He leaves after cursing Kyuhyun extensively and telling Jongwoon he’s obsolete.

“Thank you,” Jongwoon says quietly, when it is all over. He hates being indebted to Kyuhyun like this, but is still absurdly grateful that he was prevented from doing something that could have very well spelled the end of his career. “You stopped me from doing something stupid just then.”

Kyuhyun won’t meet his eyes. “I did it because my father wouldn’t like news of a fight at one of our parties getting out, Jongwoon-ssi. That’s all. It was my reputation at stake as much as yours”

“Did you mean what you said?” Jongwoon asks, when Kyuhyun turns to go after a few seconds of awkward silence. “About respecting my choice?”

“Does it matter now?” Kyuhyun’s shrug is eloquent. “All I know is, I’m not like those assholes who keep thinking you’re ripe for the picking, just because you’re getting a bit older. Maybe I haven’t gone about it the right way, Jongwoon-ssi. I was watching that guy sizing you up from across the room and I thought… isn’t that what I’ve been doing with you? I could tell you over and over again that I don’t see you as someone who can be bought with money, and I could tell you that I’ve never wanted anyone who’s been after my wealth. But would you believe me?”

“And yet you’ve been chasing after me for the past month or so, trying to get me to go out with you, sending me suggestive notes with your gifts and texting me in the middle of the night so my manager won’t try and murder you.” Despite himself, Jongwoon is more intrigued than he lets on. “Now you’re playing some shrinking violet? What’s your deal, Cho Kyuhyun?”

For a moment, Kyuhyun actually looks pained, an expression that Jongwoon thinks looks unnatural on his face. He’s used to the pompous, self-assured Kyuhyun, the one who’s been pursuing him with such bloody-minded determination that Jongwoon has been unwillingly impressed with his effort.

“We should go somewhere quieter,” Kyuhyun says. “I guess I have some explaining to do and you deserve to understand why I’ve been such a dick.”

“Is this another attempt of yours to get me to go out with you?” Jongwoon asks, “Because after what just happened, I figure you can get me a drink.”

Kyuhyun laughs then, and Jongwoon wonders what he’s not getting, because Kyuhyun sounds more relieved than triumphant. Jongwoon’s grown adept at reading peoples’ expressions over the years he’s been in the fashion industry, and he can tell that Kyuhyun’s joy is unaffected and genuine. Either that, or he’s an exceptionally talented actor.

“If you even try and act the slightest bit smug, I’ll walk out on you,” Jongwoon warns.

He gets a wide smile in return. Then Kyuhyun passes him a small square box, wrapped up in red paper.

“I’m not going to jinx this, Jongwoon-ssi, I promise. Here, this was supposed to be the last gift. Let me just go say goodnight to the VIP guests — they should be about to leave anyway — and then we can get out of here.”

Jongwoon doesn’t have to wait very long. He checks his phone for any new messages, thumbs a text to Heechul telling him that he’s going out for drinks (Jongwoon carefully leaves out who he’s having drinks with, since he doesn’t feel like being rescued like some damsel in distress tonight).

“Are you telling your manager to give you an emergency call if I turn out to be a psycho?” Jongwoon spins around to see Kyuhyun behind him, looking a little apologetic. “Sorry, I wasn’t reading over your shoulder!”

“Has anyone told you that you’re exceedingly strange, Kyuhyun-ssi?” 

“All the time. But you can tell me again, I don’t care.”

***

As it turns out, Kyuhyun’s really not that much of an asshole. Jongwoon finally understands why he’s been doing such a good impression of one when they slink into a quiet bar in Hongdae, where the bartender knows Kyuhyun by sight and slides over a half-finished bottle of French brandy.

“It sounds so lame now that I’ve told you about it,” Kyuhyun moans, sipping at his snifter. “I can engineer takeover deals that would make Donald Trump _and_ Alan Sugar so envious they’d beg me to take them on as apprentices. But with you, Jongwoon-ssi, I come up with the worst ideas.”

Jongwoon’s already downed his brandy, so he’s half-way to being nicely mellowed out and accepting of everything Kyuhyun’s saying. Some vague part of his still sensible self warns of the dangers of alcohol, of what it could do to his determination not to be swayed by Kyuhyun’s words, but Jongwoon is past caring, if he’s being totally honest.

“So, let me get this straight,” he pauses for a moment to take in the absurdity of it all and giggles. “You thought you would pretend to be just another rich dickhead and try to buy me off, just to see whether I would fall for it? And then if I didn’t you were going to what, surprise me by suddenly showing me your caring, sensitive side?”

Kyuhyun pouts. Jongwoon thinks it shouldn’t look so cute. He’s blaming the alcohol.

“No. I _was_ going to give you your last gift and then you would’ve seen how unbelievably sweet and cutely quirky I was. Am. Look, why don’t you stop being so dense and open the box, OK?”

Amused, Jongwoon tears at the wrapping on his last present and takes the cover off a small cardboard box. Nestled inside, on a bed of crushed newspaper is a game cartridge that looks vaguely familiar. It brings to mind Jongwoon’s childhood, and how he’d been unbelievably obsessed with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, especially the video games his family could never afford because there were more basic necessities like food to buy and utilities to pay for.

What Jongwoon holds in his hands right now is the Super Nintendo Ninja Turtles game he’d wanted so desperately when he was eight years old. He wonders how Kyuhyun even knew where to buy it, let alone the outdated gaming system that must seem ancient compared to the Xboxes and Playstations of today.

“You know this is like a fossil nowadays, don’t you?” He asks, after realising Kyuhyun is waiting for a reaction. “How in the world did you know what this game means to me?”

Kyuhyun blushes. Combs a hand through his fashionably unkept hair. Jongwoon resists the urge to tuck a wayward lock behind his ear, but only just. It’s definitely the brandy, he keeps telling himself. Not that Kyuhyun isn’t unfairly adorable when he’s trying to explain his overelaborate plans.

“I — uh. I might’ve bribed your manager into telling me what he thought you’d really like. He kind of maybe told me to go fuck myself, but that was before I told him that I was friends with a casting agent who knew someone who could help his girlfriend out. Although he threatened me with a bloody death if I manage to mess things up with you after his invaluable help, so maybe I should still be on my guard. Um. Anyway the rest was easy enough; nothing’s really gone on the internet.”

He fumbles with the buckles on the briefcase he’s carrying and draws out an ancient Nintendo controller to go with the cartridge.

“So, I was going to say, ‘Kim Jongwoon-ssi. Would you like to play a game with me?’”

Jongwoon tilts his head to one side, considering Kyuhyun. “And that was going to be your big reveal? An old video game?”

“No! It’s a _symbol_.” Kyuhyun looks distinctly annoyed that Jongwoon is refusing to get his carefully thought out plan. He leans heavily against the sticky bar countertop and starts counting off on his fingers. 

“You were going to be impressed at how hard I’ve tried to chase you, and the game is supposed to show you how much trouble I’m willing to go through just to please you. I mean, did you know I had to talk to about twenty sellers in the United States just to get this game? It’s so rare most of the cartridges up for sale are at least twice of what the original retail price was, which is insane considering the technology’s so out-dated. Also, it was a flawed game to start with. The levels were too hard and all the Turtles look the same, especially when you’re trying to tell the difference between Leonardo and Raphael… I was four years old when this game came out, so I didn’t really play it, and I had to look it up online, but still —”

Jongwoon stops this tirade by covering Kyuhyun’s mouth with his fingers, marvelling at how effective this tactic is when Kyuhyun goes silent almost immediately. For the first time, he allows himself to forget the absurdity of the situation and ignore how much he’s supposed to despise Cho Kyuhyun. Instead, he focuses on Kyuhyun’s full, soft lips and how they feel against his fingertips.

“Shut up, Kyuhyun-ssi. I may be a model, but I’m not stupid.”

He takes his hand away and they stare at each other for a long moment. Jongwoon finishes off his brandy and chuckles softly.

“So, what changed your plans tonight? It can’t just have been what that idiot was saying back at the party.”

“Well.” Kyuhyun fumbles with the Nintendo controller, pressing the buttons aimlessly. “It kinda did. See, I accept that the way I went about things may not have been the most appropriate course of action when I was trying to get you to go out with me. I know it was an asshole move to make you think I was only interested in buying you off. I mean, I guess I thought I wasn’t sure about you. Siwon was always going on about you, saying how you were such a great guy and how he really thought about introducing me to you and all the rest of it…”

“Siwon did?” Jongwoon interjects. “What? He was trying to set me up with you? The last time he arranged a blind date for me, I spent the whole evening following some guy around piano bars, and let me tell you, that is not my idea of fun.”

Kyuhyun blushes.

“Well. I think Zhou Mi suggested I look you up. He seemed to think it was a good idea. But I wanted to be sure you weren’t just going to look at me and see dollar signs and private jets. And I’m not saying it’s right to test you, because it isn’t. I just want you to know why I did the things I did. Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is… the point is I want you to make whatever choice you want to, not because you think you should. If you’d rather we stop and never see each other again, I … I’ll accept it.”

Jongwoon doesn’t say anything for a long time. When he opens his mouth again, he’s assembled his thoughts into something resembling coherency.

“You know, Cho, you are the most infuriating, least understandable man I’ve ever had chase me, and that’s including the failed snake charmer I dated when I was twenty. I mean, testing me by being an asshole? Holding out gifts that must have cost you a lot of money just so you could see if I was a gold-digger? Acting like a bastard who expects to get everything just because he’s got an unlimited credit card? I — What the hell were you even thinking?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer.

“I’ll give you points for being man enough to blow your own cover tonight, though. That takes guts. And that game, because I’ve been wanting it since I was eight. But next time, you know you could just ask me out, like a normal guy? Siwon must have told you I’m alright for money. I’ve never liked rich men tossing around heaps of cash, OK? Never will. I only spend what I earn myself. I don’t need someone else holding out cash like I’m some kind of kept concubine. And besides, a guy like you, without your Young Master act? I would’ve said yes the first time, regardless of how much shower gel you buy me, or cameras. Or bottles of wine I’m never going to drink.”

“W-what?” Kyuhyun’s sipping at his second glass of brandy and chokes when he hears what Jongwoon says. His eyes look larger underneath the glasses he’s wearing. Jongwoon reaches out and tugs on the lapel of Kyuhyun’s shirt, pulls him close.

“You heard me, Cho Kyuhyun. I would’ve said yes…”

“And?” Kyuhyun’s voice is barely a whisper, but Jongwoon can hear everything he’s saying.

“I’m still saying yes, you idiot.”

They kiss, and Jongwoon decides that Cho Kyuhyun might be more gifted with foresight than he thought. He’s been well and truly caught, though possibly not very much against his will.

Jongwoon’s not complaining.

“Come back to my place,” he growls, when they finally break free for air. “I’ll show you what kind of games we can play together.”


End file.
